I woke up this morning to the smell of Bergamot. I have no idea what that has to do with turkey, or if I am imagining things, but darn it, it smells like Earl Grey Tea in here. Not that I am complaining, it just smells like Earl Grey Tea. I mentioned it and I got an odd look, having already been told it was the burnt rubber smell from the vacuum cleaner, which decided to throw a belt or something this m morning.
Huh. Still smells like tea.
This is Thanksgiving at the house. There’s a turkey in the oven, yams ready to go on the stove, the turkey neck is, um, turkeying in its pan, there’s fresh bread being made. I personally am drinking coffee, trying to wake up so I can shower to go to work. My iPod is also charging. This is my first Thanksgiving having to work, and before I start whining as to how depressing that is (I won’t be seeing my parents, I won’t be gorging on turkey and potatoes and gravy and peas (don’t know what that’s all about, but I gotta have peas with turkey dinner) I have to remind myself that it’s all right. So I won’t be sitting down to a big meal with family and friends. I have family and friends, a roof over my head, heat, food, a car that works, a job to go to. Life doesn’t end because I can’t sit down to a meal.
There’s hot coffee, did I mention?
One of my co-workers actually has today off, and she informed me this was the first time she’s ever had Thanksgiving off during her years of working where we work. Now that I couldn’t imagine. Never having Thanksgiving off? Wow, just thinking about it makes my brain go blank. This is my first job where I don’t have the standard holidays off. We are, in fact, open 24/7, every single day of the year. We don’t stop because there’s a holiday, being National or otherwise. It’s pretty cool, but like any job, there are the moments…
The bread machine is making its unholy grinding noise as it kneads bread. Stop. Start. Stop. Start. This is the first year we’re making bread, instead of buying those soft, fluffy rolls with absolutely no nutritional benefit to them. The sourdough starter has been doing its thing for the last couple of days, we’ve had a trial run, making rolls, and boy, they were tasty. So much better than those fluffy white pillows from the store, but can they soak up gravy?
The weather is pretty miserable: cold, windy, wet. The perfect day to stay home with tea, the internet, and this odd smell of Bergamot that just isn’t going away (I refuse to believe its burnt rubber). Eventually I will have to get into my car and drive the 40 miles to work. I was smart, and filled up my gas tank on the way home last night, as well as the rest of the world. I circled the gas pumps several times, trying to remember which side was my tank on? Oh yeah, that little arrow that’s on my gas gauge. This way to the fuel door. Apparently the rest of the world had the exact same idea as I did, to fill up before hitting the road to wherever dinner is being held for today. Me, I just need to get to work.
So really, I have nothing to complain about, even though I have to work. Hey, at least I have a job to go to, right. I have an iPod to charge (it’s just a Shuffle, I love the clippy thing on it) and coffee to drink and there’s a piece of pumpkin streusel cheesecake for me to take to work. I know when my friend gets through cooking there will be plenty of leftovers, and she’s a good egg and cooks the carcass down so there’s plenty of stock when it’s all said and done.
The greatest joy this morning? The 8-year-old being absolutely entranced with the mixer, the dough hook going round and round with the dough for the rolls.